


The Other Shoe

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Established Relationship, F/M, Journalists, Old Friends, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:04:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lorraine runs into an old acquaintance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Shoe

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a birthday fic for rain_sleet_snow.
> 
> A note about OCs:  
> Primeval fandom on LiveJournal has generated a number of fanon OCs, created by different authors and freely used by others, to the extent that some of them have now taken on lives of their own. The one that appears in this fic, Blade, belongs to fredbassett.

  
“Fancy stopping for a quick drink before we go home for lunch?” Blade asked, gesturing towards the pub opposite the park gates.  
  
Lorraine nodded, and they made their way across the road and into the cool, dim interior of the building. Blade went up to the bar to get their drinks, while Lorraine looked around for somewhere to sit, finally settling on a table by the open French doors that led to the beer garden, out of the direct sunlight, but close enough to the fresh air that she didn’t feel stifled.  
  
It had been an unusually domestic Sunday. Lazing in bed until an hour Lorraine’s mother would have deemed scandalous, followed by coffee and croissants (coffee and a bacon butty, in Blade’s case), a leisurely perusal of the newspapers, and then a walk up to the local park before lunch, suggested by Blade.  
  
It was the kind of Sunday neither of them experienced often, thanks to the anomalies, and much as Lorraine was determined to enjoy it, she still couldn’t help feeling like the other shoe was about to drop.  
  
“Lorraine! Lorraine Wickes! Fancy seeing you here!”  
  
The shoe hit the floor with a resounding thud.  
  
“Sally Jones,” said Lorraine flatly, as the woman who had called out to her made her way over to Lorraine’s table.  
  
Sally Jones seemed completely oblivious to Lorraine’s less than welcoming tone. She was smiling broadly, and plonked herself down in the chair opposite Lorraine without waiting for an invitation. The liquid in her glass (it appeared to be a white wine spritzer) sloshed dangerously as she plonked that down too.  
  
“How long is it since we’ve seen each other?” Sally gushed, in a tone of excessive friendliness that Lorraine didn’t believe for a second.  
  
She and Sally had worked together several years ago at GCHQ, before Lorraine had moved to the anomaly project. Sally had been very good at her job, but she’d also been one of the nosiest gossips in their whole department – not an ideal trait to have when working for an organisation that valued secrecy _very_ highly. It was whispered amongst Lorraine’s colleagues that only some of her more important skills had kept her from being thrown out.  
  
Lorraine frowned a little. She was sure she remembered…yes, that was right. A few months after Lorraine had left for the anomaly project she’d heard that Sally had in fact left GCHQ – jumped before she was pushed, Lorraine had thought at the time – and that she’d gone into investigative journalism.  
  
Suddenly this coincidental meeting seemed a lot less coincidental.  
  
“Must be a while,” Lorraine replied, still in a less than encouraging voice. “What are you up to now?” she asked, even though she knew perfectly well.  
  
“Oh, this and that, this and that,” said Sally airily. “What about you?”  
  
“The same, I suppose,” said Lorraine.  
  
“So where did you go when you left the old HQ?” Sally enquired, not very subtly, in Lorraine’s opinion.  
  
“I just felt like I needed a change of scene,” Lorraine replied evasively.  
  
“Nah, I remember – you were _head-hunted_ ,” Sally said. “Must have been for something special, right?”  
  
“Lorraine?” said another voice, saving her from having to come up with a response.  
  
She looked up to see Blade standing by the table, holding their drinks. To the casual observer, he looked relaxed, but Lorraine could detect the wariness in his stance.  
  
“This is Sally Jones,” she said quickly. “We used to work together.”  
  
Blade didn’t react to the brisk, succinct introduction, instead placing the drinks – a pint for himself and an orange juice for Lorraine – on the table, dragging a third chair over from a table nearby and sitting himself down next to Lorraine.  
  
“Nice to meet you, Sally Jones,” he said, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Lorraine wondered if Sally had noticed. “I’m Niall Richards, Lorraine’s boyfriend.”  
  
“Hello, Niall,” said Sally, her voice taking on an obviously flirtatious tone. Lorraine resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  
  
“Reminiscing about old times are you?” Blade asked, taking a mouthful of his drink. “And catching up on what you’ve each been up to since you last saw each other, I suppose.”  
  
His words carried the faintest of emphasis, and Lorraine nodded. “Something like that,” she said. “We’d only been chatting for a moment before you turned up.” She gave Blade’s knee a soft nudge with her own under the table.  
  
 _Be careful._  
  
Blade gave her his own nudge of acknowledgment just as Sally asked, “So what do you do, Niall?”  
  
“I’m in the armed forces,” Blade replied.  
  
“Really? Which branch?”  
  
“One that I can’t tell you anything about,” said Blade pleasantly.  
  
Lorraine nudged him again, more sharply this time. What was he playing at?  
  
“Oh, go on.” Sally gave Blade a playful smile. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”  
  
“No, really. I’m afraid if I told you I’d have to kill you,” said Blade, still pleasant, although there was a promise in his expression, if Sally cared to notice it.  
  
She didn’t. Instead, she turned her attention back to Lorraine. “I bet he’s told you a thing of two though, right?” she said. “It would be mean to keep his girlfriend in the dark.”  
  
“Niall’s work is classified,” replied Lorraine, with absolute truth.  
  
“Ah, well, I’ll just have to go and find out for myself then, won’t I?” said Sally. “I’m good at finding out things, you know.”  
  
“So I’d heard,” said Lorraine.  
  
Sally blinked at her for a couple of seconds, and then laughed. “You know more than you’ve been letting on, Lorraine,” she said, not seeming all that put out by Lorraine’s equivocation. She looked between Lorraine and Blade. “In fact, I think there are lots of things you two aren’t letting on about. You work together, don’t you? That job that Lorraine was requested specially for – you’re involved too, aren’t you, Niall?”  
  
Blade stared at Sally stonily for a moment, and then, to Lorraine’s amazement, grinned easily. “You’ve got us,” he said. “Can’t get anything past you, can we, Sally Jones?”  
  
“So you’ll tell me, then?” asked Sally, looking as if she was unable to believe her luck.  
  
But Blade shook his head. “Afraid not,” he said. “More than our jobs are worth, unfortunately. However…” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, and fished around in it, extracting a small business card. Lorraine read it quickly as he handed it over to Sally.  
  
 _Ms. Jennifer Lewis. PR Manager._  
  
“Give this lady a call – I’m sure she’ll be pleased to help. I can see you won’t be happy until you’ve got your story, and I’m sure Ms. Lewis will give you some information.”  
  
Sally took the card eagerly. “Thank you, Niall. I’ll certainly be giving her a call.” She smiled at the two of them. “No hard feelings, of course. We journalists can never seem to switch off the investigative instinct. I’m sure you understand?”  
  
“We understand,” said Blade. “Now, if you don’t mind, Lorraine and I were hoping for a quiet drink.”  
  
“Oh, yes, of course. I do apologise. I’ll leave you two alone.” Sally stood up quickly, still clutching the business card. “Nice to see you again, Lorraine.”  
  
“And you,” Lorraine replied insincerely.  
  
Sally looked down at Blade, and flashed him a smile. “Sure you can’t tell me anything?” she asked cheekily.  
  
“No,” said Blade. “Like I said before, if I told you anything, I’d have to shoot you.”  
  
His voice was still calm and friendly, but this time Sally must have seen something in his face. Lorraine knew only too well how scary Blade could look when he tried, and watching Sally’s own face pale a trifle, she was certain that Sally was seeing something she didn’t like.  
  
“Well, er, never mind. I’d, er, better be going. Bye, Lorraine. Bye, Niall.”  
  
She left quickly managing to bump into at least two tables on her way out. Lorraine watched her until the door of the pub had closed behind her, and then turned to Blade.  
  
“Do you think she’ll still phone Jenny?”  
  
“Who knows?” Blade shrugged. “I think I got my point across, but even if she does make that phone call, there’s no one better at stonewalling than Ms. Lewis.” He shuddered. “That lady is _scary_.”  
  
Lorraine laughed. “I almost feel sorry for Sally now.” Then her eyes narrowed. “We’d better tell Sir James, though, in case she does keep sniffing around. I still can’t decide if her being here was a coincidence or not.”  
  
“She didn’t know enough for her appearance to be deliberate,” Blade declared. “She would have dropped a lot more hints if she’d known anything.”  
  
“You’re probably right. But I think I’ll just keep an eye out, in case.”  
  
“You do that,” Blade told her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “It can’t hurt. Now, finish up your drink, and then we can go home. There’s still plenty of Sunday left to take advantage of.”  
  
Lorraine smiled, and did as she was told. As they walked home from the pub, however, she looked over her shoulder a few times, almost expecting to see Sally following them at a distance.  
  
But there was never anyone there.


End file.
